Oh Father, I am not yet done
with all the songs I have begun.
The flight of angels that Thou send
with fire and ice I pray suspend.
How could I go, when every tree
and every flower clings to me?
A song of all of them, an ode
where praise and wonder share the road
to everyone I wish to will...
Be my soul bread, or better still,
a meadow, orchard and blue sky.
To all who do not know me, I
would strive to be a beam of light
to ever guide their yearning sight.
In weeds and grasses I sought high
enigmas never seen by eye.
While peering into ponds and wells
I roamed the woods and felt their spells...
Then angels came to summon me.
Oh Father, let me sing and be!
Open the cage, let fly, disperse
my eagerly awaiting verse.
Magda Isanos (1943) (Translated by Paul Abucean)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem